The Brooch
by TheAmazingFireshadow
Summary: An extremely random (and short) one-shot that popped into my head unexpectedly. They unmask Hawk Moth and Marinette feels bad for Adrien. Kinda dramatic and too poetic for my own good. My apologies in advance.


**Author's Notes: Random one-shot that I wanted to write before I forgot it. I promise I'll update soon! I was just feeling poetic for about twenty minutes! I know it's not even that good, but I wanted to post **_**something**_**.**

Her blood went cold and she shivered, an action that contradicted the warm summer weather. It was too nice of a day for such earth-shattering revelations, such things that should be reserved for much more unpleasant weather, but it was undeniable.

It _was _Gabriel Agreste standing before her, encircled by various Miraculous holders as he arched a brow, looking more inconvenienced than angry.

It _was _the Butterfly Miraculous clutched in her trembling hand, and she squeezed it tight, praying to whatever god there was that today was just an awful dream.

There was no rain in the sky, only a smattering of fluffy white clouds, so the water that blurred her vision had to be coming from her eyes as they gazed upon the purple jewel in the palm of her gloved hand, a single tear falling down, down, down to the metal beam of the Eiffel Tower where her friends stood no more than a few feet away watching with concerned eyes.

The earth wasn't falling out from under her, so it had to be her legs that refused to support her any longer, causing her to sink down and squeeze her eyes shut, imagining a boy her age watching the spectacle unfold in high definition, his poor heart breaking into pieces as his worst nightmare became the horrid reality that it was.

For no reason other than it was, a leather-clad hand rested silently on her shoulder, and a slightly hoarse voice whispered soft encouragements in her ear, his breath warm as the summer day and gentle as the breeze, barely strong enough to carry a blade of grass.

It was her partner with his emerald eyes that shone in the sunlight, and through her own despair she thought she saw a few unshed tears in his eyes, but it must have just been her imagination, because he had no reason to cry over a stranger.

It was her Miraculous as it beeped a warning, the sound violently shrill in contrast to the quiet voice that was so familiar, something she heard on many a midnight, when conversations were held in low voices and footsteps were only heard if you were listening.

Her tears, as constant as the raindrops that fell on a yellow umbrella, the only barrier between her and the rainstorm that forced her to walk in close quarters with her partner as they surveyed the quiet city.

A yellow umbrella, a black umbrella, and a discordant warning. Another rainstorm, another boy with a breaking heart as he reached out for something - or someone - he couldn't have.

A blue scarf that gave him false happiness when he thought things were finally changing, and a girl who didn't have the heart to prove him wrong.

A boy who offered his heart and a rose to the lucky girl who caught his eye, only to get both given back, yet he still persisted, unknowingly taking after the man he despised, the evil right in front of him that his eyes were too blind to see. Pursuing his love at any cost and every cost, even though it broke him every time he failed.

But the girl didn't know who she was rejecting, trading the boy whose heart she broke for the one who broke her own, seeking comfort from a friend and falling in love again and again and again until she finally learned to love the person who loved her, only to find out he was moving on to someone else.

A love that spiraled back and forth, a dance to the tune of their erratic heartbeats, one final warning, or perhaps a game where they avoided each other and fate seemed to be hellbent on keeping them apart.

A husband who longed for his wife, going mad the longer he went without her presence, memories slowly fading from existence, dreams he could no longer recall, days and nights spent with the love of his life slipping out of his grasp...a son she bore that remembered very little as time went by, a woman who held his life together and picked up the pieces of his broken heart, people who loved and cared for him, yet he would trade them for her in a heartbeat.

A cold and stoic man who had a rough exterior and a good eye for fashion, a man who saw something in the hat of a teenage girl with innocent eyes and a sweet face.

A woman who lay blissfully unaware of the time passing and the people who wanted her back, whose brilliant green eyes stayed closed, such a marvelous color that had been passed on to her son.

A pink flash of light that took away the gloves and the ribbons and the yo-yo, leaving a young girl who mourned for the boy she loved and a heart she would never own.

A girl and a boy, a man and a woman, fragments of hearts and oceans of tears, dreams and wishes that would cease to exist and love that would be repressed but would never die, and all of these things were held in a small purple brooch.


End file.
